When Fellowships meet Metropolis
by HarmonySoundown
Summary: When various members of the Fellowship meets modern-day metropolis, what happens? How do ten grown people (well make that five if you don't count the hobbits) fit into one tiny apartment? Please R&R!


**Okay, so joining the LoTR meets modern-day bandwagon. I shouldn't be writing right now but to hell with that these stories are just so addicting!**

**Anyway, thanks to ElrondOfImladris, I actually WROTE something on Lord of the Rings! I actually did! I had a few plot bunnies, but this one was screaming at me. *shudders* Screaming plot bunnies are scary.**

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Hoisting the ten ton bag over my shoulder, I elbowed the doorbell cautiously, not wanting the shopping bag to tip over.

Hearing no answer, I frowned, then remembered that my brother wasn't coming back from England this holiday, and my parents were going on a trip that would very well last for the entire Christmas, maybe even longer until Chinese New Year.

I scowled as I set the bag on the Welcome mat outside and dug for the keys in my pockets. Finally fishing them out, I unlocked the gate and the front door. My parents insisted that the double doors were safer, but I thought they were just annoying.

"Sam!" I called, expecting my dog to dash out of my bedroom or the kitchen. Silence.

"Oh right," I muttered. My parents didn't trust me with my dog, so they took him to a dog hotel. I know right? My dog, their rules. Stupid.

I plopped down onto the sofa and tossed my bag to the other end. All alone, the entire Christmas.

"Mr Frodo?" a tentative voice squeaked from somewhere within the apartment.

I tensed. OH. MY. GOD. Was I hearing things?

"Mr Frodo, is that you?"

Heart pounding, I turned towards where I had thought the voice had come from. Was it the kitchen?

"Mr Frodo, I don't know where we are, but this is a lovely kitchen, but it's too tall and I think it's for the elves, or the Big-folk, or- or- or—" the voice babbled, clearly nervous.

My breath caught in my throat. Could I be? Could it be like in those fanfictions where—

"Mr Frodo?"

"Sam?" I breathed, not daring to make any sound louder than that. "Samwise Gamgee? Is that you?"

The little voice became louder and less fearful. "Oh Mr Frodo, is that you?"

"Sam, I… think we need to get something right."

"Mr Frodo?" the voice asked anxiously as I got up and walked over to the kitchen door, which was shut as I had left it. Carefully I pushed open the door, not wanting to startle whoever was inside.

The door opened to reveal a small child – no, HOBBIT – peering from behind the kitchen cupboard. He was barefooted, as a hobbit should be, and had a messy mop of curly golden-brown hair.

"Listen, Sam – Frodo isn't here," I explained slowly. "Neither is Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Peregrin Took, or Gandalf, or Ara- Strider," I corrected myself, "or the Gondorian, Boromir. Or Elrond, or anyone you've ever met. Or your old Gaffer," I added.

The supposed Sam's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and held out a frying pan, trying to be menacing but failing miserably. "W-what did you do to Mr Frodo?"

"Well, you're not in Middle Earth anymore," I tried to break the news gently. "I don't know where Mr Frodo is, but I'm going to help you find him. Okay?"

Sam's lower lip trembled slightly and he looked as if he was about to cry. "B-but the quest—" his eyes widened as he clamped his hand over his mouth.

I walked closer to him and knelt down so I was eye level with him. "It's okay," I said in my most comforting voice, the way I spoke to my younger cousins. "You see, people here know about your quest. And they are supporting you by not telling anyone. So you don't have to be afraid. Trust me." I looked into his eyes, completely serious.

Slowly, Sam nodded. "But what do I do when Mr Frodo is managing without me?"

"Well, you could stay with me," I offered. It wasn't like anyone was going to find out. I was just going to be a regular 17 almost 18 year old girl spending Christmas 'alone'. Right?

Sam's face lit up. "Thank you!" he cried as he hugged me, mushing his words as he buried his face into my T-shirt. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

I patted his back comfortingly as the frying pan lay in the corner, forgotten. "You're very, very welcome, Sam. Now, why don't you help me with tending to the plants on the balcony?" I pointed to the balcony filled with withering plants. Sam gasped.

"Poor them!"

And he immediately dashed to take a look, temporarily forgetting the current situation he was in.

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**Thank you so much for reading, guys, and please review, and fire away if you have any ideas!**


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